


Blood Relations

by Kristiania



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Drama, Family Drama, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristiania/pseuds/Kristiania
Summary: Gul Dukat, the ruler of Cardassia, visits his mother in the hope of a reconciliation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Кровное родство](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359225) by [Kristiania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristiania/pseuds/Kristiania). 



> The events of this fanfic take place between the episodes 5.26 "Call to Arms" and 6.03 "Sons and Daughters". 
> 
> Many thanks to Alina Gordelli and Peter Lydyard for their invaluable help with the translation.

The carpet on the floor was as he always remembered it: rich green and red pattern on a dark grey background. The same old tapestry was hanging on the walls. Dukat had walked through this corridor so many times before expecting to be punished behind the double-winged glass door – and even now his heart was beating fast in anticipation.  
A secretary in a suit embroidered with silver threads swiped his hand through the door scanner and moved aside. Unconsciously, Dukat touched his belt buckle, smoothed the hair on the back of his head – and stepped inside.  
“Supreme Governor of the Cardassian Union, Commander in Chief, Gul Dukat”, a servant barked behind him. A subtle smirk touched Dukat’s lips: his mother always chose servants with robust voices.  
Her hair arranged in a high coiffure had not whitened even a little from the last time he saw her and her grey eyes were as piercing as ever. A tall carved chair and a long black gown accentuated her grandeur.  
“Please, leave us, Rodal", she barely nodded towards the servant . "Get a synopsis of economic news ready for me”.  
“Certainly, Lady Kelladora”.  
The door closed behind Dukat with a soft rustle. His mother’s slim hand, adorned with magnificent bracelets, beckoned him closer.  
“You may sit, Gul", - she pointed at the chair near the wall. "I understand how complex the duties of the Head of State are and how time consuming they must be. However, you did find an opportunity in your tight schedule to pay me a visit – I’m touched”.  
As he sat down, the soft seat bent under his weight. Dukat leaned forward a little and, placing his hand on the armrest, said:  
“I wanted to see you, ma-am. Our last encounter was overshadowed by a mutual misunderstanding, and I hope…”  
Dukat was lost for words. Why is it that speaking at the Detapa Counsel was easier than in this house?  
“I hope today we’ll be able to resolve everything that stands between us”, he uttered at last.  
The corners of her pale lips rose a bit:  
“I have to say I did not expect this – but you’ve managed to impress me, Gul. To turn yourself round from being a fugitive, rejected by everybody, into the ruler of Cardassia and to restore her former military power – it’s a significant accomplishment”.  
He bowed silently.  
“Alas, you’ve disappointed me too many times before. But now I see that you have honorably fulfilled your duty to Cardassia – perhaps, it will give me the strength to accept your obstinacy and stubbornness”.  
Dukat exhaled soundlessly, his fingertips touched his forehead ridge, where blood was pumping heavily through his veins.  
“Everything I do, I do for you too", he said quietly. "I am glad you are no longer angry with me, Mother”.  
Her grey eyes were watching him intently.  
“I’m ready to call you my son again. But you should brush that half-Bajoran girl out from your life. The very fact of her birth disgraces the ruler of Cardassia. You must proclaim that she is no longer your daughter – and the sooner the better”.  
Dukat felt his skin covering with goosebumps under the armor plates and the heavy fabric of his uniform. He has already done it before leaving Terok Nor with the Dominion forces, hasn’t he?  
He disowned Ziyal. He cut her out of his life. Now the only thing he had to do was to tell his mother about it.  
Beyond any doubt, she’ll be glad to know how he abandoned Ziyal on the doomed station which was about to explode together with the Bajoran sun. Perhaps his mother will even commend him for his wise actions.  
He faltered before, on Dozaria. But now he has made up his mind. It’s too late for trying to mend the bridges with Ziyal. She will never want to see him again. But mother… Mother will embrace him. A single word would be enough.  
“No", he uttered dully. "Ziyal is my daughter, and this will never change”.  
Madame Dukat’s eyebrow ridges rose in bewilderment. She shook her head.  
“I should have expected it". Neither anger nor sadness reflected in her calm melodious voice. "You have been spoilt from your very childhood – apparently, nothing can redeem such a depraved soul. Let it be. Go away”.  
“Mother", he gasped, "how can I convince you to listen to me? I can’t disown Ziyal, but it does not diminish my… my loyalty to you. Believe me”.  
“Gul, you should leave now. Enough said. You have made your choices the very moment when you became involved with that shameless Bajoran…”  
“Lady Kelladora", he rose on his feet, "I must ask you to respect the memory of my dear friend”.  
The grey eyes flashed with shock, the blood drained from the ridges of her forehead. But Kelladora Dukat remained silent.  
Children must not interrupt their mother – how would any Cardassian dare to break this ancient rule? But the Head of State has the right to talk to every citizen as he considers necessary.  
Especially, when they are not bonded by blood relations.  
His mother stood up, went to the armoire, the tight dress rustling. She reached out for the PADD, tapped at the screen, as if not seeing Skrain. As if he was no longer there.  
“I wish you health and prosperity, Lady Kelladora”, he bowed and turned away.  
Five steps to the door – still hoping to hear something, anything, if only a curse.  
Then there was a muggy corridor with stiff air, pumping into his lungs, wet wind on the porch. He tapped at the communicator:  
“Energize”.  
Damar met him at the transporter room and as always asked no questions.  
“As soon as everybody is on board, we return to Terok Nor. We already are late”.  
Dukat lingered on the platform stairs and turned to his assistant:  
“Did you get the subspace code I told you about?”

…The code was correct, but Dukat only succeeded in connecting with the Bajoran University student hall, the third building, room 32A at the second attempt. Barefoot, dressed in a fluffy bathrobe, Ziyal hasted to the communication console. Her sleepy eyes under the soft brow ridges blinked and widened in amazement as she looked at the screen.  
“Father?”  
“Hello, Ziyal", he cleared his throat. "How are you getting on with your studies?”  
She shook her head incredulously, the disheveled black curls covered her forehead and shoulders.  
“Did you really trace my whereabouts, hack the code, send an urgent call in the middle of the night just to enquire about my studies?”  
Dukat forced himself to smile:  
“I didn’t. And it completely escaped me that it’s so late there”.  
Ziyal nodded, rested her chin on her palm, getting comfortable near the screen. Ziyal was waiting. And Dukat blurted out:  
“I am coming to see you”.  
“Are you?” Her soft pinkish lips flinched, she bent forward to the screen. He nodded vigorously:  
“We have a lot to discuss. I have overreacted, Ziyal. I should not have abandoned you like that”.  
“You shouldn’t”, she echoed. And then she smiled widely, joyfully:  
“Please do come. I miss you so much!”  
An overwhelming wave of warmth surged through him, as if he had pressed his bare chest against hot rocks. And nothing was ever going to tear him away.  
“Me too, Ziyal", he lowered his chin on his hands mirroring her, almost touching the smooth screen with his forehead. "Me too”.


End file.
